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7 

GOD'S REGARD 



FOR IB 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 

« ♦ » » » 



Written _/br J/je Massachusetts Sabbath School Society, and 
approved by the Committee of Publication. 



BOSTON: 

MASSACHUSETTS SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY, 
Depository, No. 13 Cornhill. 

1849. 
L3 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, 

By CHRISTOPHER C.DEAN, 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



-O 
X 



/97 



PREFACE. J tL 



This little book is designed as a message of love, to 
those it addresses. It unfolds, for their encourage- 
ment and comfort, a portion of the Divine promises ; 
those springs of refreshing to the weary and afflicted 
pilgrim. Let me solicit for it an earnest and prayer- 
ful perusal. Try, my dear friends, to improve the 
cheering truths it contains. Try to feel just as our 
compassionate Father desires the afflicted to feel, in 
view of his proffered support. For this, you need 
the heavenly Comforter. The most alleviating truths, 
without his co-operation, will be of little avail. Then, 
ere you commence the reading of these pages, plead 
for the Spirit's applying and consoling influences ; 
and as you rise from their perusal, still breathe the 
breath of prayer. 

Also bear in mind that every Divine encouragement 
carries with it an obligation. If Jehovah promises, 
we should confide ; if He hold out his supporting 
1* 



VI PREFACE. 

arm, we should lean upon it. Afflictions, however 
severe, can never release us from this reasonable 
claim. Confidence in God is an imperative duty ; 
and shall we sinfully distrust, because our spirits are 
broken ? No, He is the healer of the wounded 
spirit, and when the affections are crushed, when we 
have peculiar need of his aid, He especially requires 
us to trust him. Here alone, should our distracted 
thoughts and riven hearts repose. 

Then let me tenderly entreat those whose compan- 
ions have been torn from their embrace, and those 
little ones who will hear no more, a father's voice, 
nor see a father's smile, to read the ensuing pages 
with a confiding, childlike spirit, and with a constant 
looking to the Father of mercies for the supplies of 
his promised grace. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



CUMSTANCES OF HIS CHILDREN. 



CHAPTER II 



THERLESS TAUGHT EITHER DIRECTLY 
OR INDIRECTLY BY THE DECLARATIONS 
OF SCRIPTURE. ....... 11 



CHAPTER III 



THERLESS ILLUSTRATED BY FACTS. . 20 



Vlll CONTENTS 

CHAPTER IV. 

ITS MODES OF MANIFESTATION 41 

CHAPTER V. 

ITS PRECIOUSNESS. . 58 

CHAPTER VI. 

CONCLUSION 66 



GOD'S REGARD 



FOR THE 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS, 



CHAPTER I. 

Gotfs Blessings Graduated by the Circum- 
stances of his Children. 

God's compassion is deep, pure, and over- 
flowing. He is ever alive to the sufferings 
of his children. He represents himself as 
afflicted in all their afflictions — as grieved 
when they are grieved. He delights to 
soothe the agitated bosom, to bind up the 
broken heart, to pour oil into the wounded 
spirit. Yet his favors are distributed with 
consummate wisdom. The bounty is meas- 
ured by the necessity. He imparts no 



]0 god's regard for the 

redundant favors, nor withholds the needed 
supply. He gives strength to bear in the 
day of weakness ; comfort to sustain in the 
day of trial. " He tempers the wind to the 
shorn lamb." We have innumerable evi- 
dences that the compassion of our heavenly 
Father is thus wise and watchful. His 
word, his providence, and, if we are Christ- 
ians, our own experience, alike affirm it. 
How often it has been our grateful excla- 
mation, " He is indeed a God at hand, and 
not a God afar oif." When have we been 
in peril, and not received the required 
succor? When have we fallen into the 
abyss, and not found there his hand to 
support, his smiles to cheer? How re- 
markably expressive of this prudential ten- 
derness and. love, is the declaration of the 
Psalmist, "A Father of the fatherless, and 
a Judge of the widows is God in his holy 
habitation." Their grief may be deep and 
pungent ; yet they are not forsaken. As 
their sorrows are peculiarly intense, so 
God's compassion extends to them peculiar 
relief. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 11 



CHAPTER II. 

God's regard for the Widow and Fatherless 
taught either directly or indirectly by the 
declarations of Scripture. 

The Scriptures are a mirror in which the 
feelings and purposes of Jehovah respecting 
man are distinctly reflected. He has there 
expressed his compassion for the widow and 
orphan in a variety of respects, and in dif- 
ferent ways. 

He expressly asserts it. The Psalmist 
introduces the passage above quoted with 
the utmost solemnity. In the preceding 
verses, he has recorded his prayer, implor- 
ing Jehovah to arise and scatter terribly his 
enemies — to drive them away as the smoke 
is driven away — to melt them as the wax 
before the fire is melted — and to ride ma- 
jestically upon the heavens by his name 
Jah. Then, with this glowing and lofty 



12 god's regard for the 

conception before the mind, he announces 
the truth so interesting to all concerned, 
and so awfully fearful to the wicked, that 
this Being, great and glorious as he is, is 
" A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of 
the widows in his holy habitation." They 
are secure in all their helplessness ; — this 
mighty Being shall ever behold and comfort 
them ; ever notice their wrongs, and vouch- 
safe their defence. This truth is again 
asserted in Deut. in an equally solemn and 
impressive manner, and enforced with all 
the sternness of a lawgiver. " For the 
Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of 
lords, a great God, a mighty and a terrible, 
which regardeth not persons, nor taketh 
reward. He," this independent and sov- 
ereign Lord of all, "doth execute the 
judgment of the fatherless and widow." 
Jeremiah says in the form of promise, 
u Leave thy fatherless children, I will pre- 
serve them alive, and let thy widows trust 
in me." In Proverbs it is said, " The Lord 
will destroy the house of the proud, but he 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 13 

will establish the border of the widow." 
He will preserve her possessions from the 
encroachments of injustice, and protect her 
from wrong. The Psalmist asserts ; " Lord, 
thou wilt cause thine ear to hear; to judge 
the fatherless and the oppressed." Job 
says, in justifying himself against the accu- 
sations of his friends, " I delivered the poor 
that cried, and the fatherless, and him that 
had none to help him : — and I caused the 
widow's heart to sing for joy." Again, 
with the same intention ; " If I have caused 
the eyes of the widow to fail; or have 
eaten my morsel myself alone, and the 
fatherless hath not eaten thereof — if I have 
lifted up my hand against the fatherless ; — 
then let my arm fall from my shoulder 
blade," thereby indirectly asserting God's 
determined care of those thus bereaved and 
exposed. The Psalmist declares, " He 
preserveth the strangers; he relieveth the 
fatherless and widow." Again — " Thou 
art the helper of the fatherless " — and Hosea 
says, " In thee the fatherless findeth mercy." 
2 



14 god's regard for the 

God has shown disapprobation of their 
ill-treatment. He gave early intimations of 
his tender regard for the widow and orphan. 
In his first visible establishment of civil 
institutions, he was not unmindful of them. 
Even the sternness of the lawgiver did not 
suppress this kind regard; it arose trium- 
phant in all its strength and beauty. In 
the 24th chapter of Deut. God utters his 
distinct prohibition — " Thou shalt not per- 
vert the judgment of the stranger, nor of 
the fatherless, nor take the widow's raiment 
to pledge." In the 27th chapter he has 
expressed the same in the strongest lan- 
guage of denunciation; "Cursed be he 
that perverteth the judgment of the stranger, 
fatherless, and widow." In the 22d chap- 
ter of Exodus, he has connected it with the 
severest threatenings; "Ye shall not afflict 
any widow, or fatherless child. If thou 
afflict them in any wise, and if they cry at 
all unto me, I will surely hear their cry, 
and my wrath shall wax hot, and I will 
kill you with the sword, and your wives 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 15 

shall be widows, and your children father- 
less." The Psalmist mentions it as the 
peculiar conduct of the wicked, that " They 
slay the widow and the stranger, and mur- 
der the fatherless." Job asserts the same; 
" They drive away the ass of the father- 
less ; they take the widow's ox for a 
pledge; — They pluck the fatherless from 
the breast, and take a pledge of the poor." 
Eiiphaz comments on the conduct of his 
afflicted friend; "Thou hast sent widows 
away empty, and the arms of the fatherless 
have been broken." Christ charges the 
Pharisees with devouring widows' houses 
— a sin of great enormity. Isaiah, recount- 
ing the crimes of the Jews, says; "They 
judge not the fatherless, neither doth the 
cause of the widow come unto them. 
Therefore saith the Lord, the Lord of hosts, 
the mighty One of Israel, Ah, I will ease 
me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of 
mine enemies." Again; "Woe unto them 
that decree unrighteous decrees — that wid- 
ows may be their prey, and that they may 



REGARD FOR THE 

rob the fatherless." The wise man utters 
the solemn prohibition, " Enter not into the 
fields of the fatherless ; for their Redeemer 
is mighty ; he shall plead their cause with 
thee. Zechariah says, " Oppress not the 
widow, nor the fatherless, the stranger, nor 
the poor." In Malachi, God speaks fear- 
fully ; " I will be a swift witness against 
those that oppress the hireling in his wages, 
the widow and fatherless." 

God has shown approbation of their kind 
treatment. It was not enough for the good- 
ness of God to manifest disapprobation of 
evils that might be inflicted upon them; he 
mentions them as objects of special favor. 
In the 14th chapter of Deut. Israel was 
directed to lay up a tithe of their increase to 
be distributed in objects of charity. "And 
the Levite, and the stranger, and the father- 
less, and the widow, shall come and eat, 
and be satisfied, that the Lord thy God may 
bless thee." On the performance of this 
duty, the blessing hinged. In the 26th 
chapter, the requisition is reiterated, and it 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 17 

was only when complied with, that the 
chosen seed were permitted to offer the 
prayer, "Look down from thy holy habita- 
tion, from heaven, and bless thy people 
Israel." Again, in the 24th chapter it is en- 
joined, " When thou cuttest down thy 
harvest in thy field, and hast forgot a sheaf 
in the field, thou shalt not go again to fetch 
it ; it shall be for the stranger, for the father- 
less, and for the widow, that the Lord thy 
God may bless thee." Isaiah records a 
corresponding precept; "Seek judgment, 
relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless 
and plead for the widow." With the an- 
nexation of a promise, it is said in Jeremiah, 
" If ye oppress not the stranger, the father- 
less and the widow, — then will I cause you 
to dwell in this place, in the land that I 
gave to your fathers forever and ever." 
The apostle Paul enjoins; " Honor widows 
that are widows indeed; " and James says, 
" Pure religion, and undefiled before God 
and the Father, is this ; To visit the father- 
less and widows in their affliction, and to 
keen himself unsnotted from the world." 



18 god's regard for the 

Thus God has surrounded the widow 
and fatherless with prohibitions and pre- 
cepts, promises and threatenings. They 
have, indeed, their dwelling in the bright 
radiance of their Father's love. No one 
can read these varied and multiplied ex- 
pressions of his regard, without the convic- 
tion that he feels for them a peculiar 
tenderness. I have gathered from the sacred 
page these scattered lights, and concen- 
trated them in one luminous point, that it 
may be seen by those thus bereaved and 
desolate, how resplendent is the sun of 
consolation which shines for them in the 
word of God. May its beams enter their 
darkened hearts, and give them joy. How 
happy the thought, that as our privations 
of worldly comforts increase, the exhibi- 
tions of his love brighten ! That the deeper 
and darker the waves that rage around us, 
the higher " they toss in angry spite," the 
brighter the glory that gilds their foaming 
summits ! The goodness of God is indeed 
suited to our varied wants ; it is fitted to 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 19 

relieve in the most painful condition, even 
commingling the bitterest sorrow with joy. 
God can dissipate the rushing tempest. 
The lot of the widow and orphan, drear 
and desolate as it is, is not all desolation. 
No; weeping, widowed mother, look up- 
ward, and behold " thy God, thy glory.' i 



20 god's regard for the 



CHAPTER III. 

God's Regard for the Widow and Fa- 
therless Illustrated by Facts. 

It is delightful to trace the footprints of 
God's mercy in the developments of his 
Providence ; especially when they attest 
the faithfulness of his promises. 

We will first contemplate such as are 
affirmed by Scripture. 

The widow of one of the sons of the 
prophets furnishes an instance. The ser- 
vant of the Lord, her husband, had 
contracted a debt, which at his death, 
remained unpaid. His creditor was one of 
those harsh, iron-hearted men, who must 
have their just debts, however much 
suffering it may cost the honest poor from 
whom they are wrung. While her heart's 
wound was still throbbing with the loss of 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 21 

her husband, he unfeelingly obtruding 
himself upon her grief, solicited his dues ; 
and, as in her penury she had nothing to 
pay ; proceeded with sordid selfishness, 
" to take her two sons to be bondmen." 
Pitiless man! "What shall the helpless 
widow do? God casts his shield about 
her. She is divinely moved to ask assist- 
tance of Elisha. He inquires, "What 
shall I do for thee 1 tell me, what hast 
thou in the house? And she said, Thine 
handmaid hath not any thing in the house, 
save a pot of oil." He directed her to 
borrow empty vessels "not a few" of her 
neighbors ; and when she had shut the 
door upon herself and sons, to poor into the 
same till they were all filled. She did so. 
" Then she came and told the man of God ; 
and he said, go sell the oil, and pay thy 
debt, and live thou and thy children of the 
rest." Surely God cares for the defence- 
less. 

The widow of Zarephath was likewise 
provided for by a miracle. True, this was 



22 god's regard for the 

performed in part to feed Elisha; yet it 
was evidently designed to preserve also the 
life of the Avidow and her son. When the 
prophet first met her at the gate of the city, 
she was in the last extremity of famine. 
For as he said to her, " Bring me, I pray 
thee a morsel of bread in thy hand," she 
pathetically replied, "As the Lord thy God 
liveth, I have not a cake, but a handful of 
meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a 
cruse, and, behold I am gathering two 
sticks that I may go in and dress it for me 
and my son, that we may eat it and die." 
But " Elisha said unto her, Fear not ;-— 
the barrel of meal shall not waste, neither 
shall the cruse of oil fail until the day that 
the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth." 
"Amid famine and death God has deter- 
mined to preserve thy life, and make thee 
the instrument of preserving mine." — After- 
wards when the gushings of maternal love 
were chilled, and the desolation of her 
widowed heart was made still more deso- 
late by the death of her son, Elisha, 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 23 

prayed, and the " icy clay " was restored 
alive to her arms. Behold, what God has 
wrought for the sorrowing. 

" But these," the distrustful may say, 
w are instances of miraculous interposition, 
and, therefore, inapplicable to us." True, 
these were miraculous events, but they 
indicate the feelings of Jehovah toward his 
afflicted children ; and consequently are 
solid grounds of encouragement and trust. 
But I will mention two or three instances 
where relief was administered in a way 
more consonant with the ordinary course 
of Providence. 

Elimelech and his wife Naomi lived in 
Bethlehem- Judah, where they had two 
sons. They apparently enjoyed a pleasant 
home; but famine pervading the land, 
they removed to Moab, where subsistence 
could be more easily obtained. The father 
soon died. The sons, Mahlon and Chilion 
married Moabitish women, and settled 
down in the quiet of domestic life. But as 
one awaketh from a dream, they too were 



REGARD FOR THE 

shortly summoned from the scenes of time ; 
"and the woman was left of her husband, 
and her two sons." How dreary was now 
her condition ; a childless mother, a widow 
and a stranger ! Her daughters-in-law, 
Orpah and Ruth, probably resided with 
her, the sorrowful remnants of her once 
happy family. Their society was un- 
doubtedly grateful, yet it could have been 
little but the sympathy of griefs, — the 
mingling of tears. 

Naomi determines to return to the land 
of Judah — She advises her daughters-in-law 
to return "each to her mother's house;" 
for why should they unite their fortunes to 
the homeless widow ? But they wept at 
the suggestion. After much entreaty how- 
ever, Orpah, affectionately kissing her 
mother-in-law, departed. But " Ruth said, 
Entreat me not to leave thee ; for whither 
thou goest, I will go; where thou diest, 
will I die, and there will I be buried." 

The two widows, strengthened by mu- 
tual regard, and under the protecting care 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 25 

of Jehovah, took their way — a lonely, 
weary journey to Bethlehem. When they 
arrived, the whole city was moved. 
Naomi's kindred and acquaintance gath- 
ered around them with fond recollections 
and sympathetic greetings. But amid all 
these testimonials of affection, the bereaved 
mother and wife was sad. The tender 
associations of her former domestic enjoy- 
ments crowded on her mind, and over- 
whelming her with sorrow, she exclaimed, 
" Call me not Naomi " pleasantness — " but 
Mara" — bitterness — " I went out full, and 
the Lord hath brought me home again 
empty." How painful a depth is here 
opened into the widow's heart ! 

Indeed, to human view her condition 
was sad, scarcely a single ray penetrated 
the thick darkness around her. But 
" God's thoughts are not as our thoughts." 
In the secrets of his counsels he had a way 
to relieve the wanderers. 

Their arrival was about the time of 
barley harvest. The affectionate Ruth 
3 



REGARD FOR THE 

went out to glean the scattered heads of 
grain in the fields for their mutual suste- 
nance. Providence led her to the fields of 
Boaz, — "a mighty man of wealth" of 
Bethlehem. When he learned that she was 
the Moabitess, he gave her a cheerful wel- 
come both to the food of the laborers and 
to his fields during the harvest. He also 
bade the young men treat her kindly, 
directing them to "let her glean even 
among the sheaves," and "let fall some 
handfuls of purpose for her." The first day 
she carried home an ephah — about three 
pecks — which she shared with her mother- 
in-law. The widow's God had opened his 
hand to their necessities ; but still richer 
blessings were in store. Boaz belonged to 
the kindred of Elimelech, and according to 
the custom in Israel, he united himself in 
marriage to Ruth, and gave her a home of 
honor, wealth, and comfort, in which her 
mother- in-law was in some sense a sharer. 
For when Ruth had borne a son, "the 
women said unto Naomi, Blessed be the 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 27 

Lord which has not left thee this day with- 
out a kinsman — and he shall be unto thee 
a restorer of thy life, and a nourisher of 
thine old age." 

Thus God verified his promises; guid- 
ing and nourishing both as the tenderest 
parent; and elevating Ruth to the pre- 
eminent distinction of becoming one of the 
lineal ancestors of our Lord. 

Another instance is that of the Shuna- 
mite who treated Elisha with so much 
kindness and hospitality; and whose son, 
God, by his instrumentality, raised from 
the dead. For at the time when the inter- 
position of Providence, related in the eighth 
chapter of 2d Kings, occurred, she was 
evidently a widow, and experienced a 
widow's protection. 

God had determined to send a famine of 
seven years upon Israel as a farther chas- 
tisement for their continued idolatry. The 
woman, instructed by the prophet, was 
induced to take up her residence among 
the Philistines, beyond the reach of the 



28 god's regard for the 

divine visitation. At the expiration of the 
appointed period, when fertility again cov- 
ered the fields, and joy once more awoke 
in their habitations, she returned to dwell 
among her own people. She found her 
possessions in the custody of others, 
violently and wrongfully retained. She 
applied for redress to the king; and though 
Jehoram was a man of little moral princi- 
ple, and cared little for the sympathies of 
humanity, yet, owing to a series of circum- 
stances divinely ordered, he was induced to 
assert her rights and restore her possessions ; 
thus becoming the unwitting agent of " the 
Judge of all the earth" in carrying out his 
gracious determination to protect the border 
of the widow from spoliation and wrong. 

Esther too was an orphan. She was 
early cared for by her kinsman, Mordecai. 
Naturally attractive, educated and fur- 
nished with great accomplishments, she 
became an object of general esteem and 
admiration. She was exalted to the partici- 
pation of a crown; made the instrument 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 29 

of preserving the lives of thousands of her 
countrymen, and turning the wrath of men 
to the praise of Jehovah. 

Christ also evinced to the widow and 
fatherless the most cordial sympathy. He 
showed it when he met at the gate of 
Nain, the bier of the widow's son; and, 
moved with compassion, commanded back 
the departed spirit. He showed it in his 
kind, parental regard for the orphan family 
of Bethany, in his friendly interviews, 
gentle reproofs, and as he wept with the 
bereaved sisters at the grave of their 
brother, and bade the dead "come forth." 
Especially, he showed it, in that purest, 
tenderest affection, which, amid the dark- 
est desolations of Calvary, gushed from 
his dying heart toward his probably 
widowed mother. Truly, Jesus pities the 
lonely. 

We will now contemplate facts occurring 
in the common revolutions of Providence. 

P., was a native of Massachusetts. For 
the benefit of sea-air, being in feeble 
3* 



30 god's regard for the 

health, he removed to Portland, Me., with 
his wife and two little daughters. An 
active, enterprising man, capable of turn- 
ing his hand to almost any thing he chose, 
he was induced to enter a vessel engaged 
in trade with the West Indies, as mate. 
He went several voyages and acquired 
property. He grew, however, weary of 
the hardships and perils of the sea. But 
being urged, he was persuaded to try his 
fortune once more ; and, embarking all his 
property, set sail for the West Indies, 
thinking, that if usually prospered, he 
should accumulate sufficient to raise him 
above the necessity of going again. Such 
are human anticipations. 

Just before the ship reached its destina- 
tion, it was becalmed near one of the 
Spanish Islands, in the harbor of which lay 
a vessel of somewhat suspicious appear- 
ance. Soon a boat put off from it and 
made toward them. The Captain, being 
confined by sickness, gave the command 
to P. The strangers came alongside, and 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 31 

raising a blunderbuss, and snapping 
without discharging it, began to climb up 
the sides of the vessel. P., bewildered by 
this unexpected demonstration of the blun- 
derbuss, being a man of decision and reso- 
lution, and feeling that it was his only- 
alternative to save the ship, cried to his 
men, "Now is the time," and led the way 
to drive them or! the railing. He was 
instantly shot through and thrown into the 
sea. The rest of the crew were captured, 
confined in the hold, and the ship towed 
into the harbor. After a short confinement, 
they were stripped of every thing valuable, 
and turned loose to make their way home 
as best they could. 

The Captain, knowing the destitute 
condition of P's family, begged at least a 
share of his property to carry to his 
afflicted widow, but was refused. He 
then asked for his empty pocket-book as a 
memento; the trifle was wantonly with- 
held. Unfeeling men ! How unlike Him 
who " is a strength to the needy in distress. 7? 



32 god's regard for the 

The Captain worked his way to Cape 
Ann, and then wrote home the dismal 
tidings. The intelligence came like a fall- 
ing avalanche on the stricken widow. 
Overwhelmed and benumbed, her heart was 
left desolate and drear. The stroke 
brought on a nervous fever which laid her 
low for several months. Though among 
comparative strangers, she received the 
kindest attention; and was assured of its 
continuance if she would remain with 
them ; but her relatives in Massachusetts 
sending for her, she concluded to accept 
their invitation. Her stranger friends, 
however, would not suffer her to depart 
empty-handed. They paid her passage. 

Among other benefactors, a Quaker, who 
had manifested much interest in her wel- 
fare, charged her to call on him just before 
she sailed. She called. He presented her 
with twenty dollars which he had collected 
for her relief. As she expressed her grati- 
tude, and, at the same time, bemoaning 
her unhappy lot, exclaimed, "Oh, I don't 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 33 

know what I shall do ; it seems to me I 
can never get along:" " O," replied the 
Quaker, " yea thou wilt; I never knew 
one stick by the way yet; I tell thee, all 
get through the world somehow or other." 
A common sense remark quaintly ex- 
pressed, the recollection of which often 
encouraged her in subsequent difficulties. 

The voyage was long and tedious. 
They encountered a violent storm. The 
tossing bark trembled and groaned like " a 
thing of life" on the angry sea, but the 
widow's God was there, and bore her 
through the peril. They succeeded in 
anchoring off a safe coast ; but the rock- 
ing of the waves caused her such extreme 
sea-sickness, that, in her feeble state, she 
could not well endure it. She was there- 
fore landed, though she knew not how she 
could meet the additional expense. But 
Providence directed her to a family by 
whom she was not only received kindly 
and entertained gratuitously, but offered a 
home for herself and fatherless ones so long 



REGARD FOR THE 

as she chose to remain. But when the 
storm abated, she preferred to resume her 
voyage: and after receiving repeated Prov- 
idential deliverances, arrived safely among 
her friends, where she might truly have set 
up her Ebenezer, saying, "hitherto hath 
the Lord helped me." 

One of her little daughters was immedi- 
ately put into a good family, where she 
was educated and prepared for usefulness. 
The other remained with her, a solace in 
bereavement. In their lonely dwelling 
they were comfortably provided for ; the 
sun shining out "mournfully sweet" after 
the fury of the tempest had passed. 

The Captain of a vessel on one of our 
Western Lakes was the father of a family 
of six children. He sailed on a short voy- 
age with the expectation of returning 
within a week. All his property was 
invested in the vessel and its lading. A 
storm arose. It was an anxious hour for 
that lone family. The roaring winds and 
the hoarse waves beating against the shore 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 35 

sounded dismally to the trembling wife 
and her little ones. But the clouds at 
length cleared away, and the dashing and 
foaming surges moaned themselves to rest. 
She looked anxiously out upon the rippling 
bosom of the Lake for the well-known 
sail, but it appeared not. Day after day 
came and passed ; and the wrung heart of 
the disappointed wife and mother remained 
unrelieved. The little brothers and sisters 
often spake of "dear father" and wept; 
and hand in hand would almost daily 
wander down to the shore with fond antici- 
pations of meeting him there; but no 
father came. The neighbors began to 
whisper that the treasured bark had been 
swallowed up in the stormy surf. Hope, 
even in the heart of the fond wife began to 
fade; yet hope expiring would not die; its 
fluttering pulse again and again prompted 
the eager gaze far over the heaving or 
peaceful main, in search of the wished-for 
object; and even for weeks after others 
had ceased to hope, the unexpected tread 
at her door would send through her feverish 



36 god's regard for the 

heart % a thrill of anticipative delight that 
the lost one had returned. But every 
flickering of hope appeared hut to go out 
in still deeper night ; neither husband nor 
vessel were heard of more. The widow 
and fatherless were left destitute; their 
natural support and guardian gone forever. 
But God pitied them. Neighbors were 
moved to interest themselves in the be- 
reaved family. The four eldest children 
were immediately supplied with good situ- 
ations, where they are now being well- 
trained and educated. The mother and 
the two youngest were placed in circum- 
stances where she obtains a good support, 
and enjoys that mournful satisfaction 
peculiar to the widowed heart, in caring 
and toiling for those who wear the image 
of the dear departed. 

A father with his wife and two children 
moved into one of the Western States. He 
built a log cabin and settled down on the 
borders of a stream. Soon after, while 
engaged in his usual employment, he was 



WIDOW AND FATHERHSS. 37 

drowned. His wife, from her window, 
saw him fall from his canoe into the water. 
Agonizing moment! She strove to render 
him assistance, but her efforts were vain. 
The vital spark was quenched. 

The situation of the widow was indeed 
lonely; far from her kindred, bereft, in a 
moment, of the object of her tenderest 
regard, and comparatively destitute of the 
means of subsistence. Who could relieve 
sorrow so intense 1 None but " the God of 
all comfort." She needed his paternal 
smiles and she received them. He touched 
with humanity the hearts of entire stran- 
gers. They showed her the kindest atten- 
tions, and cheerfully subscribed one hun- 
dred dollars to defray the expense of the 
return of herself and children to her 
relatives. Within a month she was on her 
way to the home of her childhood. Truly, 
what we need, God bestows. 

In one of the delightful villages of New- 
England, there lived some twenty years 
4 



38 god's regard for the 

ago aTamily consisting of the parents and 
six children. The mother was pious and 
entered into covenant with God. The 
father, though a man of rare endowments 
and great respectability, became intemper- 
ate and wasted his property. His wife 
uncomplainingly sunk into a decline, show- 
ing but too plainly, that unuttered grief 
was the death-worm secretly working at 
the roots of life. It soon became apparent 
both to herself and those around her, that 
she must shortly pass from the present 
scene. The thought of leaving her little 
ones not only nearly destitute, but in the 
care of an intemperate father, was ex- 
tremely painful. To her pastor, standing 
with her children by her bed-side just 
before she expired, she said, "Oh! these 
children ; I have wished to live to see them 
settled in the world;" but added after a 
pause, "I think I am willing to leave them 
in the hands of a covenan -keeping God." 
In a short time she breathed her last. The 
motherless children of an intemperate 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 39 

father may indeed be regarded as doubly 
orphans. But this intemperate father, 
whether a blessing or a bane to his off- 
spring, in a few months went down to a 
drunkard's grave, and pillowed his head 
beside his once suffering wife. But his 
spirit! ah, where is it? — The children 
were well provided for. A kind, unseen 
Hand has seemed to guide them in paths 
unknown ; and in the judgment of friends, 
they are now all better settled in life, than 
they probably would have been had their 
fond mother lived. How true the promise, 
" Leave thy fatherless children, and I will 
preserve them alive." 

These facts have been gathered with 
little effort, having fallen almost casually 
under the notice of the writer. Should one 
go through the community for the purpose, 
hundreds and even thousands of equal 
interest might be collected. Indeed, the 
same kind Hand that penned " the lively 
Oracles" controls all our social changes, 
and sweetens our bitterest sorrows. The 



benign spirit of Jesus breathes in the atmos- 
phere around us ; his sympathetic hand 
sustains and shields us wherever we go. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 41 



CHAPTER IV. 

Its Modes of Manifestation. 

God's compassion is ever manifested to the 
sufferer, when it can be in consistency with 
himself. His mercy — the source of every 
blessing to the guilty — is a sealed fountain ; 
the perfections of his character do not con- 
strain its flow; still, when it can flow 
in harmony with his holy character, it 
gushes forth. This is its nature and full- 
ness. Within these restrictions its influ- 
ences distill upon all. As the sun, when 
hanging in the zenith, spontaneously sends 
down its genial rays, bathing hill and 
valley, forest and glade, with his enliven- 
ing beams, and nothing prevents but the 
intervening clouds ; so this regard will be 
experienced by those toward whom it is 
^ *4# 



42 god's regard, for the 

cherished, and nothing will prevent, but 
the clouds which their own disobedience or 
unbelief shall gather. It is the star of hope 
and confidence to the fatherless and widow; 
and if they will but turn upon it their 
trustful gaze, they will enjoy its selectest 
influence. They will find it operating as a 
principle of action with their heavenly 
Father, ever disposing him to manifesta- 
tions of kindness and love. 

It disposes Him to become their support. 
Woman, in the honorable sense of Paul, is 
" the weaker vessel." This is apparent in 
her physical constitution, her mental struc- 
ture, her quick and delicate sensibilities, 
and her allotted condition. She is not 
robust and bold, and fitted to wrestle alone 
with opposing difficulties. Her character 
is soft, gentle, confiding. It is her nature 
to trust. She seeks something on which, to 
lean. In her element, she is not isolated, 
but associated; stands not firmly in her 
own strength, but instinctively clings to 
that of another. The character of children 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 43 

is similar. They feel, in some sense, their 
weakness, and resort for succor to a stronger 
arm. The husband and father is the prop 
on which they severally lean. They rise 
with him as the vine with the oak ; they 
stand because he stands. But the hurricane 
overturns the monarch of the mountain, 
and the flexile vine lies prostrate in all its 
weakness. It is thus with children, and 
especially with the wife, in the hour of 
bereavement. Their stay is gone, and they 
sink with it. 

Who shall raise them? Who shall give 
them strength to stand? God; he shall 
take them up. The almighty Father shall 
be their friend and succor; he shall put 
under them his everlasting arm, and uphold 
them. He will pour into their souls his 
own vivifying spirit, and renew their 
strength. He shall whisper in their ears, 
" ' A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge 
of the widow is God in his holy habitation.' 
I am now the rest of your sinking spirits. 
Your earthly support was but the feeble- 



44 god's regard for the 

ness of dying flesh, and crumbling dust. 1" 
am your everlasting support; stay your- 
selves on me. He, whom I" uphold, shall 
never fall." Precious assurance ! On this, 
the widow and fatherless may rest and dry 
their tears. 

It disposes Him to become their Protector. 
The same imbecility that seeks a support, 
solicits a shield. The mother and children 
are no less defenceless, than helpless. A 
consciousness of insecurity often steals over 
them, without the presence of the husband 
and father. He is their natural protector. 
His is the strong arm, to supply and guard. 
He provides their habitation, and hovers 
over it like a guardian spirit, warding off 
intruding ill. He is the family-shield, every 
poisoned arrow falls blunted on the fathers 
breast ; for when the father smiles, the bit- 
terest scorn has little power to corrode, the 
wildest terrors to alarm. — That solitary 
dwelling stands on the hill-side, or in the 
insulated valley. How dreary, at times, 
are its apartments, when the father is gone. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 45 

It is a dark and wintry night. The tem- 
pest is raging without, with all its dismal 
accompaniments. The boding clouds are 
vailing the stars in gloom ; the sleet is driv- 
ing through the air, and rattling against 
the windows ; the screaming winds are 
rushing through every crevice; the snow is 
fast drifting and cumbering the ways, and 
the father is not there — a scene, how dis- 
mal to that unguarded household ! A sup- 
pressed trembling seizes the anxious mother, 
and fear chills the throbbing hearts of the 
little ones. Their wonted pastimes have 
almost lost their charm ; they are sad and 
silent, save when the half-complaining in- 
quiry is made, " When will father come? " 
— How different are the feelings of this 
same household if the father is present. 
What if it is a dark, wintry night? What 
if the tempest is roaring, and the clouds are 
blackening the heavens? What if the flying 
sleet is filling the atmosphere, and the 
winds yelling like infuriated spirits of air? 
.What if the snow is drifting and blocking 



46 god's regard for the 

the way ? The father is there, and the little 
ones feel safe. 

Is this a fancy sketch ? If we will recur 
to the affectionate memories of childhood, 
we may recollect how sad and gloomy were 
our own feelings at times, when our dear 
father was absent, and how our little hearts 
leaped when he returned. 

But death enters this dwelling, and takes 
away this loved protector; and his icy hand 
almost freezes the life-blood of the wife and 
children. It is a paralyzing blow. They 
are left defenceless and desolate. What 
sinkings of heart; what tremblings of fear 
fill that rifled abode, especially in scenes 
like that described above. The children 
turn to their weaker, though not less en- 
deared protector. The mother, crushed by 
the weight of her own affliction, has, in a 
measure, to bear the sorrows of her chil- 
dren. They lean upon her, while she her- 
self needs support. They gather around 
her for relief, while she herself is oppressed. 
She endeavors to wear a cheerful counte- 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 47 

nance, while her heart is bursting ; and 
then, perchance, overpowered with the 
whelming tide of her own emotions, she 
mingles her tears with theirs. Sad specta- 
cle ! While we contemplate the trembling, 
weeping band, we drop a tear. Humanity 
demands it. Yet why should we ? 

" Back, gushing tears, back to your native springs." 

God, from his holy habitation, looks down 
upon them with a pitying eye. The Al- 
mighty compassionates the widow. He 
stoops and folds her in his arms. He whis- 
pers in her trembling heart, " Thy Maker 
is thy husband; I am thy Protector — fear 
not." A confidence in the invisible Hand 
raised for her defence is sweetly breathed 
into her dark and stormy breast, and its 
darkness is scattered, its agitation calmed. 
The everlasting Father is the father of 
these children. He invites them to the 
repose of his bosom. He lifts their infant 
thoughts to himself, their almighty Pro- 
tector; tenderly hushing their moans and 



48 god's regard for the 

soothing their sorrows. At his bidding an- 
gels hover over them, and attend them 
wherever they go. Even in lone and dis- 
mal scenes, he makes their little hearts 
strong. True, they sojourn in a weary 
land, but God is to them as the shadow of 
a great rock — " they rest all day beneath 
his shade," and are refreshed. Deprived 
of their earthly protector, their condition 
may appear defenceless and forlorn, but it 
is only in appearance. He, who rolls the 
sun, is their protector; he, who holds the 
treasury of every blessing, is their Jehovah- 
Jireh. Ye widows and fatherless, what 
stronger guardian do you need? When a 
sense of defencelessness oppresses you, and 
your hearts grow chill with fear, you can 
look upwards, and behold the Lord your 
Rock and Fortress; your God in whom 
you may trust. 

It disposes Him to become the Defender 
of their rights. This is a depraved world. 
Self is the god naturally worshiped. 
Men seek their own advantage and emolu- 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 49 

ment, regardless of the privileges of others. 
The rights of the defenceless are conse- 
quently exposed to infringement, and their 
dearest interest to invasion. The husband 
and father is the asserter of the rights, and 
the defender of the privileges of his family. 
Under his wing, the wife and children seek 
security from the birds of prey. It is his 
office to defend their cause, plead for their 
interests, and vindicate them from injustice. 
This conjugal and paternal love is a tower 
of defence. With what intensity does it 
glow, when injury is inflicted on, or threat- 
ened to, hisr little community ! The tear, 
glistening in the eyes of one of its injured 
members, shakes his whole soul with a 
sense of wrong, and arouses the whole 
man in defence. The wife and children feel 
that in him they have an efficient advocate 
and, if redress is possible, it will be ob- 
tained. 

This kindest defender dies : but man 
remains the same depraved and selfish 
being, pursuing his own advantage with 
5 



REGARD FOR THE 

the same eagerness, trampling on the privi- 
leges of others with the same indifference. 
In this universal rush for self, who shall 
defend the widow and fatherless ? This, 
to the widowed mother, not unfrequently 
is a question of anxious solicitude. Often as 
she contemplates her trying circumstances, 
and mutiplied cares — the property newly 
invested, in a measure, in her own hands, 
the involved state in which, perhaps, it 
lies, and the processes of law necessary to 
secure it to the rightful heirs — her chil- 
dren in their minority, perhaps, infancy, 
yet uneducated and unprovided for, and 
with no ability to provide for themselves — 
the selfishness of the world, the cruelty 
with which men, influenced by private 
interest, extort from others their dearest 
privileges, and consequently, the imminent 
exposure of the rights of those whom she 
regards as bone of her bone, and flesh of 
her flesh — she is ready to exclaim, "In 
whom can I confide?" And when, in addi- 
tion to this load of care, she reflects on her 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 51 

own want of wisdom and experience in 
business transactions, and how much both 
are demanded in her present circumstances, 
she is disposed, at times, to sit down in 
despondency. Darkness settles on her 
spirits. 

But let the desponding widow lift up her 
eyes in hope ; she is not suffering a total 
eclipse. God is her sun and shield. God 
is the Judge of the widow and her father- 
less children. He will take these defence- 
less ones under his own protection, earnestly 
espousing their cause, and vindicating their 
rights. If they are injured, he will notice 
it ; if they weep, he will regard their tears. 
He watches over them with all a father's 
love, and when dangers threaten, he flies 
to their relief. Yes ; He, who is infinite in 
wisdom and counsel, shall plead for them, 
and surely, he will not plead in vain. He, 
who is Almighty, shall defend them, and, 
if he defend, surely, no evil can come near 
their dwelling. 

They " are a garden, walled around." 



REGARD FOR THE 

He will be their champion to resist their 
foes, their rock, against which the waves 
of selfishness shall dash and -roar without 
effect. The interested, to deceive their 
inexperience, may lay deep their schemes, 
may use a thousand treacherous wiles to 
rifle their possessions; but God is mightier 
and wiser than they, and, if consistent 
with the plans of his government, he will 
foil their mischievous devices, or turn the 
intended injury on the heads of the wicked 
devisers. They, in the end, and not these 
heaven-protected ones, shall be the suffer- 
ers. To accomplish this benevolent pur- 
pose, however, he may not step out of his 
ordinary course of providence. He may 
raise up human defenders. He may touch 
the hearts of some with commiseration, 
and invigorate the sense of justice in others; 
so that they shall become the voluntary 
advocates of the widow and orphan; assert 
their interests, and guard their rights, as in 
instances related above. God. may work 
by second causes, and still be Almighty to 
uphold and defend. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 53 

Let not, then, the widow and fatherless 
despond, though human selfishness renders 
their situation dark and perilous. God 
will ever he true to his promises. He feels 
for them, and will eventually rectify their 
wrongs. They may go to him with confi- 
dence, when oppressed with cares and sor- 
rows, and lean securely on his arm. They 
will find him "a present help;" he will 
stoop to hear their complaints, and readily 
yield the needed aid. 

It disposes Him to sympathize with 
them. The father is the sympathizing com- 
panion of his family. He tenderly recipro- 
cates their joys and sorrows. This is 
peculiarly true with regard to the mother. 
All that gives her pain or pleasure, is 
freely communicated to him. Without 
reserve, she unbosoms her inmost thoughts 
and feelings. When any thing presses 
heavily on her secret soul, how it relieves 
her bruised and aching heart to reveal the 
cause to one, who, she so well knows, will 
reciprocate her grief It is thus, in a de- 
5* 



54 god's regard for the 

gree, with the children. They expect his 
sympathy, both when they weep, and 
when they laugh. When a cloud passes 
over their early sun, they know their 
father will feel its shadow with them ; and 
when young joys flutter in their bosoms, 
they know, that though they are but child- 
ish, his sympathetic heart will vibrate in 
full harmony with theirs. He smiles on 
their innocent pastimes ; and it adds a sweet 
intensity to all their infant pleasures. The 
paternal countenance, saddening with their 
sadness, and kindling instantaneously with 
the gladness that kindles theirs, is the 
bright rainbow that cheers their morning 
sky. 

But the bright rainbow is faded. That 
sympathizing heart is cold. That affec- 
tionate countenance, once kindly changing 
with all their varied feelings, is expression- 
less. That smile, which flowered on his 
lips, is withered. Death is there. The 
bereaved mother and children lay him in 
the grave ; they consecrate it with their 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 55 

tears, and return, a sad, sable group, to 
their lonely home. How lonely ! — What 
a chilliness creeps around their hearts as 
they enter ! No husband's voice greets, no 
father's smile welcomes. No one is there 
to sympathize so tenderly as the husband 
and father was wont to sympathize, even 
in all their little troubles and pleasures. 
That loved home seems almost as drear as 
the grave in which they have laid its en- 
deared head. They almost feel it would 
be pleasant to be laid beside him in his 
own gloomy home. But to none is the 
draught so bitter, as to the rifled widow. 
Her heart has been riven asunder. She 
feels like a torn-ofF branch. She has been 
used to a full communication of her griefs. 
All her cares, all her pains, all her trou- 
bles, she has unbosomed ; all her burdens, 
he, who is now no more, has reciprocally 
sustained with her. For years, perhaps, 
she has not borne a sorrow without a 
sharer. But now this bitterest sorrow she 
must bear alone. There is no earthly 



56 god's regard for the 

friend whose sympathies fully accord with 
hers. 

But though the world is a cold sympa- 
thizer, and she finds no heart so warm as 
to beat and mingle its tide with hers, yet 
there is an invisible Friend, who will sym- 
pathize with her tenderly and sweetly. 
God, though unseen, will come very near 
to her. The curtain of his love he will 
draw close around her dwelling; a brighter 
light will gleam aboutit, and a stronger 
arm defend it. God will soothe her sor- 
rows with his presence. He will take her 
weeping household into his " heart of 
hearts," and wipe away their tears. They 
will find in Jesus just the friend they 
need ; he, who wept at the grave of Laza- 
rus, will weep with them. His affection- 
ate heart is touched with all their pains, 
and he will kindly listen to all their 
moans. If they apply to him, he will hold 
with them the sweetest and most intimate 
communion'; he will be so vitally present 
to their souls, that he will seem the living 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 57 

reality of a friend; arid they will feel the 
same confidence and reverential familiarity 
in communicating to him all that grieves 
or rejoices them, as they were wont to feel 
in telling all their varied pleasures and 
complaints to their earthly parents. How 
close the tie that binds these rifled ones to 
the blessed Jesus. He will indeed be their 
solace and comfort. He will graciously 
scatter, or beautify every cloud that gath- 
ers over them. 



58 god's regard for the 



CHAPTER V. 

Its Preciousness. 

The preciousness of this truth has been 
already implied, perhaps sufficiently un- 
folded, but I wish to bring it out so dis- 
tinctly, present it in such varied and vivid 
lights, that it will not only be seen, but 
realized. 

Christian widow, this truth is emphati- 
cally yours, that alone, which can stay up 
your sinking spirit. Take fast hold of it; 
prove its efficacy ; and be assured that 
though the world may be unfeeling, you 
have a feeling Friend above. 

You may gather your fatherless children 
around you; while they sob, you may 
breathe your sighs in prayer. You can tell 
them the great Jehovah is their father, 
and his tenderest compassion encircles 
them. As the kind shepherd gently 
tends the forsaken and torn lamb, so 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 59 

He will cherish them. Yes, bereaved 
family; your sorrows are great, but your 
comforts are unutterable. You are folded 
in the sweet embrace of God's sympathetic 
love ; the Shepherd of Israel, who never 
slumbereth, is yours. 

The lot of the widow and fatherless, 
though drear, is not altogether desolate ; it 
is dark, yet there are minglings of light; 
there are tears; yet there are placid smiles. 
Clouds, thick and convolved with tempest, 
hang over them, yet a sun of ineffable 
serenity and beauty shines above, and its 
straggling beams gladden the scene below. 
The husband and father is no more. 
They can no more give these endearing 
appellations to frail humanity, but they 
may address with the same endearment, 
him, who is the almighty Father of all. 
The richest fountain of their earthly affec- 
tion is dried, but a richer one is opened in 
heaven. They have lost their natural 
guardian and protector, yet they have the 
privilege of claiming the guardianship and 
protection of the infinite One. He, whose 



60 god's regard for the 

wisdom has directed, and whose kindness 
cheered, has left them, yet 

" Eternal wisdom is their guide, 
Their help, Omnipotence." 

He, who was wont to vindicate their rights, 
and defend them from wrong, has no more 
power to guard ; yet God, in his holy habi- 
tation, is the Judge of the widow and 
orphan. That tongue, so often heard in 
accents of sympathy, is silent; yet " the 
Father of mercies and God of all comfort," 
still whispers peace to their sorrowing 
spirits. They have, indeed, been rifled of 
a treasure. It is a rich blessing to call any 
one my husband, my father; but how 
much richer to call God my God. A 
thought, how precious; for in Jehovah 
there is measureless fullness. To call him 
mine, is to call every blessing mine ; and 
he has declared himself to be the God of 
the widow and fatherless in a special 
sense ; they may therefore call him "mine" 
with special emphasis. This, "in every 
dark, distressful hour," is to them a name 
of strength and joy. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 61 

Again; the lot of the fatherless and 
? widow is one of peculiar nearness to God. 
In one sense the universal Sovereign is 
equally near to all ; in another, he may be 
said to be nearer some than others. The 
sun diffuses his rays over the whole earth ; 
yet he shines more brightly on the equa- 
tor than on the poles. Thus God may 
communicate himself more clearly to some 
than to others. He may watch over them 
with greater tenderness ; he may cast 
around them richer displays of his mercy; 
give them a more vivid sense of his pres- 
ence. As we have seen, the fatherless 
and widow have a special interest in his 
favor. They are elevated into nearer com- 
munion with himself. They enjoy a 
sweeter view of his smiles. He leads them 
with a gentler hand ; he nourishes them 
as the tenderest mother the sickly child. 
They are so near him, that he hears from 
their crushed bosoms the least whisper and 
the softest sigh ; notices every beating 
pulse, every throbbing emotion ; sees every 
tear, every shade of sadness, and gently 
6 



62 god's regard for the 

wipes their tears, and scatters the gather- 
ing gloom. How precious to be so near to 
Him who heareth the ravens when they 
cry ! Ye fatherless and widows, say not 
despairingly, " All thy waves and thy 
billows are gone over me;" your bereave- 
ment has but lifted you higher into the 
love of God — farther into the benignant 
blaze of the throne. 

Again ; the lot of the widow and father- 
less is one of peculiar consolations. All 
Christians are objects of God's favor; 
yet, as we have seen, the Christian widow 
and orphan are peculiarly so. They are 
his choicest treasure ; the objects on which 
he looks with the kindest regard and ten- 
derest sympathy ; which he holds with the 
closest grasp, and guards with the strongest 
arm. In the light of his presence they can 
recline with the most filial confidence, and 
find peace in trouble, quietness in alarm, 
hope in despondency. The dews of heav- 
enly love fall gently around them. The 
ordinary promises of God are to them 
invested with a glow of richer effulgence. 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 63 

These are sources of unutterable consola- 
tion to the Christian in every circumstance 
of life; they are his priceless jewels; next 
in his interest to the crown of life. The 
exceeding great and precious promises ! 
He would not part with them for ten thou- 
sand imperial diadems. But to the believ- 
ing widow and orphan, they become 
increasingly precious; and not only so, on 
their darkened canopy new ones arise, as 
stars of a sweeter glow and greater magni- 
tude. They shed a healing influence on 
their wounded hearts; they calm, they 
soothe, they revive. 

No ; my mourning friends, God has laid 
no more upon you than the abundant pro- 
visions of his grace will enable you to bear. 
It is your privilege to taste the sweetest 
streams that flow from the hill of Zion. 
Is your home desolate ? No; angel bands 
are hovering over it. Is it "swept and 
empty?" No; it is "garnished" by Jeho- 
vah's presence. The rainbow of his love 
spans it. His eye, beaming with kindness, 
is fastened upon it. He follows you 



64 god's regard for the 

wherever you go ; defends you with the 
greatest care ; leads you with more than 
parental tenderness, into green pastures, 
and beside still waters. Are you comfort- 
less ? Behold the promises — the exceeding 
great and precious promises ! Are they 
not emphatically yours? Many of them, 
entirely yours ? Are they not a mine of 
priceless wealth? Is there any thing in 
the wide universe of terrestrial enjoyments, 
for which you would exchange the privi- 
lege of pleading before the mercy- seat the 
promises of Jehovah to the widow and 
fatherless? Cast your eye around you. 
Is there aught so precious ? In this mo- 
ment of passionate grief, would you rashly 
wish the dear departed recalled? — that 
new made grave to give up its dead ? — that 
treasured dust restored to your arms? 
Pause, and think — Would you?— "No, 
no ;" methinks you say with a bursting 
heart, ' : dearly as I loved him, no ! God, 
in his holy providence has taken him from 
my embrace, and it is well. Let me rest 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 65 

on his promises, and it is enough." — My 
mourning friends, shall I weep or rejoice 
with you? I will do both. I will weep 
for your loss ; I will rejoice for your gain ; 
for gain is yours. Be assured, the cloud 
that enwraps you, to the eye of faith, is 
burnished with love; it is covered with 
cherubic hosts, sent to allure you to your 
heavenly home. 



6* 



66 god's regard for the 



CHAPTER VI. 

Conclusion. 

But it may seem to some in this class of 
mourners, that God is vouchsafing no very 
special tokens of favor to them; on the 
contrary, that the removal of their beloved 
head has been but the beginning of sorrows ; 
for that sickness, pain, privation, disap- 
pointment, and even violence and wrong, 
have since rushed in succeeding waves 
over their once fair heritage.— All this may 
be true, and even more ; and yet the Lord 
may not have forgotten to be gracious. 
God may chastise and be a Father still. It 
may not have been in harmony with his 
plan of universal good to interpose and 
prevent these events you deem so calami- 
tous ; and when the finished results of the 
present scenes shall rise up before you in 
the clearer visions of eternity, they may be 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 67 

seen to be far more benevolent than if God 
had even rolled back the wheels of nature 
for your personal comfort. 

Perhaps also you are looking for too 
much. God's richest blessings are in 
his ordinary Providence, — in the thousand 
sensations we receive from the green 
earth and the pure air ; in the gentle tide 
of health and the more genial flow of social 
intercourse, in affectionate looks, kind at- 
tentions, sympathetic words, and all those 
unnumbered and almost unnoticed influen- 
ces, which fan the soul like the airs of 
Paradise. Moreover, our heavenly Father 
has never promised us entire exemption 
from suffering in this life ; only the ming- 
lings of mercy with judgments, so as to sus- 
tain under its burdens. 

But do you say, " Not only is the present 
dark, but the future is dark ; all around me 
is dark?" Let me kindly ask, is not this 
murmuring? Does it not reveal a heart 
needing chastisement? And may not this 
be one reason why God is permitting sor- 



REGARD FOR THE 

row after sorrow to roll over you % Besides, 
have you not always received enough for 
present supplies ? Has your strength ever 
failed, even when you have felt most like 
sinking'? And is not present strength all 
we need? " Give us day by day our daily 
bread" is the prayer Jesus taught us daily 
to offer ; and if we had needed more, would 
he not have taught us to ask for more? 
Indeed, Jehovah has never promised us 
peace of mind in view of the future, only 
through the medium of faith. Our mental 
laws forbid this quietness of feeling, those 
soothing sensations, in view of coming 
events to flow through any other channel. 
A sweet reliance on God through the blood 
of the cross can alone calm the agitated 
thoughts, and give that perfect peace in 
surveying the dim shadows of the future, 
which the peculiarly trying circumstances 
of the bereaved not unfrequently require. 
Ah ! weeping friends ; may not unbelief be 
in part the source of your bitter griefs? 
Let me entreat you — both your undying 



WIDOW AND FATHERLESS. 69 

interest, and the tenderness, united with 
the fidelity, of true friendship demand it — 
murmur not against God, when the fault 
may be concealed in the dark depths of 
your own bosoms. 

In closing permit me to add, these signal 
blessings exist only in promise. To be 
enjoyed they must be sought. The offer is 
made ; it must be received ; the promise 
given ; it must be believed. This faith, it 
is for you to exercise. In this hour of be- 
reavement, it is your duty, as well as priv- 
ilege, to exercise confidence in God; as 
your husband and father is taken away, to 
cast yourselves and all your cares and 
sorrows unreservedly on the Lord; ex- 
claiming with Isaiah, "I will trust and not 
be afraid." And is trust in the repeated 
declarations of him who cannot lie, a hard 
requisition? Let me entreat you, repose 
your breaking hearts- — your sinking souls — 
no where else. Is it reasonable to seek 
other support? Is it reasonable to turn 
away from the offers of the richest enjoy- 



70 god's regard, etc. 

merit, and seek the same blessing from 
another source — a source that cannot yield 
it ? Be not thus unreasonable. Receive the 
consolations of unchanging love; dwell in 
the secret places of the Most High, and 
abide under the shadow Of the Almighty. 



71 



HYMN. 

Thou God of hope! to thee we bow, 
Thou ait our refuge in distress ; 

The husband of the widow thou, 
The father of the fatherless ! 



The poor are thy peculiar care, 
To them thy promises are sure : 

Thy gifts the poor in spirit share ; 
Oh may we always thus be poor ! 



May we thy law of love fulfill, 

To hear each other's burdens here ; 

Suffer and do thy righteous will, 
And walk in all thy faith and fear. 



Thou God of hope ! to thee we bow, 
Thou art our refuge in distress ; 

The husband of the widow thou, 
The father of the fatherless ! 



72 



HYMN. 

Blest is the man, whose tender care 
Relieves the poor in their distress ; 

Whose pity wipes the widow's tear, 
Whose hand supports the fatherless. 

His heart contrives for their relief 

More good than his own hand can do ; 

He, in the time of general grief, 
Shall find the Lord has pity too. 

Or, if he languish on his bed, 

God will pronounce his sins forgiven ; 
Will save from death his sinking head, 

Or take his willing soul to heaven. 



THE END. 

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